Prologue

It had been the very thing people feared for decades. A beast so frightening that humans dare not hunt it. This beast, taking lives of innocent people and a sacrifice every ten years. The humans do their best to protect everyone, but no avail. Too many nearly die and the beast ends his reign of terror with the taking of a female sacrifice. The woman is never seen again and many have tried to gather search parties to find the beast. All expeditions fail when hunts of twenty return with seven or less.

They call this beast the Darmoor. No one knows the origin of the name or the beast, but the name has become a cursing entity that parents tell stories to their children and make them promise never to repeat the tales. The Darmoor was a terrible creature. It had the head and body of a lion with the exception of the tail of an alligator. That was its hunting form; its true form was that of a being that stood nine feet tall and had skin thicker than leather and greener than grass. If one was close enough—and actually lived to tell the tale—they could see its eyes. The eyes of a human, black and feral. To see the Darmoor in this true form meant death awaits anyone.